


First Worship

by PeterParkers7EvilExes (antimone_ii)



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Priests, M/M, This is just smut, but like pagan priests
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 15:26:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19833049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antimone_ii/pseuds/PeterParkers7EvilExes
Summary: Black polished pillars rise high into the sky, holding up a slanted roof adorned with ancient sculptures depicting the God Stark in all his miracles - blessing childless couples, deflowering a young virgin, crashing his fury down upon those who would violate in his name. Peter shudders under those stony eyes and stops before the heavy golden doors.With a shaky inhale, Peter pushes through the temple doors and is plummeted into a deep darkness.





	First Worship

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by an anon ask: "God of fertility! Tony having his body worshipped by his high priestess! Peter."
> 
> Peter is 18+ in this fiction.

It’s Peter’s first worship, and he’s frightened. As the docents cleanse him in scented oils and drape soft red silks over his shoulders, he raises his chin bravely and looks up at his teacher.

“What if he doesn’t like me?” he asks, fear making his lips go numb.

“He will,” May says confidently. “You’re a pious boy, Peter. Your heart is true.” And with another blessing, she helps him to his feet and escorts him to the temple.

Black polished pillars rise high into the sky, holding up a slanted roof adorned with ancient sculptures depicting the God Stark in all his miracles - blessing childless couples, deflowering a young virgin, crashing his fury down upon those who would violate in his name. Peter shudders under those stony eyes and stops before the heavy golden doors.

“Go on,” May says, squeezing his shoulder comfortingly. “Commune with our God.”

And with a shaky inhale, Peter pushes through the temple doors and is plummeted into a deep darkness.

Years in the faith have made this temple familiar to him. Although he’s never experienced the temple in such complete dark, he pads over the familiar tiles, cold and smooth beneath his bare feet. He comes to a stop before the altar, a polished marble dais that gleams golden when the temple doors are left open to the sunset.

Peter kneels at the altar and closes his eyes, and he begins his worship. As each word leaves his lips, he focuses his heart and offers it up to the God, summoning him and seeking his audience.

Then, as he repeats his worship, he feels heat rising all around him, like the temple itself is being warmed from the outer walls. Peter dutifully repeats the worship a third time, and with a rush of hot air, warm light blooms all around him, astral fires illuminating the temple in red and gold flames.

Peter gasps as he gazes up at the God Stark, more handsome than he’d even imagined and larger than life.

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” Stark says, his voice somehow amplified, echoing all the temple as if his presence surrounds Peter entirely. He stands in front of the altar, holy flames flickering warm over his bronze naked body, and his pitch black eyes stare unblinkingly down at Peter. Yet, despite the God’s imposing physicality, Peter knows with unwavering certainty that Stark would never hurt him.

He raises his chin and nods, baring his throat in submission. “No, my Lord,” he says, letting his red silks slip off his shoulder, offering himself up to the God. “My name is Peter. I come for my first worship, to offer myself in service and in loyalty to you.”

Stark smiles at him, reaching out and cupping Peter’s face in a warm hand. “I know who you are, Peter.” His eyes flutter shut and he leans into the God’s palm unthinking. A warm thumb brushes gently over Peter’s lower lip and the God hums, “And what would you ask of me, sweet boy?”

Peter shudders and lets the rest of his silks fall from his shoulders, pooling at his knees. “Your protection when I’m weak,” he says, gazing up at Stark and holding the God’s eyes, “your heart when I’m afraid, and your seed when I am empty.“

Stark leers at him, hungry and feral, and his irises gleam gold with magic. Then the God is surging forward, incorporeal and immovable all at once as he pins Peter to the temple floor.

Peter expects for a moment to feel the smack of tile against his skull, but a warm hand cups the back of his head protectively and he feels weightless, like he’s not falling at all. And then Stark’s lips are on his, warm and hungry and swallowing down his surprised noises, little gasps and moans muffled against the God’s lips.

He feels the thick weight of Stark’s cock, hot like a brand between his thighs, and arousal building in his groin, Peter moans and clamps his knees together, squeezing the God’s thick length between his legs. Stark chuckles against his mouth and moves down to kiss his throat, one hand holding Peter by his hips.

Peter lowers his hands, his breath stuttering when he finds Stark’s thick length. His God’s cock is larger than any other he’s seen or felt in his life, warm and heavy in his fingers. When Stark lowers his body against Peter’s and rocks forward, the tip of that massive column bumps against the apex of Peter’s thighs, teasing him of what’s to come.

"Please,” he gasps, spreading his thighs as Stark presses between his legs. He pushes himself up on his elbows and his God lets him clamber into his lap, hungrily groping at Stark’s cock and rubbing the wet tip against his hole, moaning weakly at the heat of him.

“Pious boy,” Stark says approvingly, and he settles his hands on either side of Peter’s hips, just watching as he notches the fat tip of him against his slick opening.

With a shaky exhale, Peter lowers himself down, slowly impaling himself on Stark’s cock. It seems to take forever, sliding the thick length into his hole, and it fills him up so completely, his tongue lolls out of his mouth, drooling at the delicious stretch inside him.

When Stark is finally buried inside and his balls press warm and full against Peter’s ass, he catches his breath, resting his forehead against the God’s shoulders. He squeezes his body down experimentally around the fat cock lodged deep inside him, shuddering as the God growls and rolls his hips up in response. “Full,” he whines, gazing up at the God through teary eyes.

Stark grins, and strong hands gripping Peter under his ass, he gently lifts the boy and lowers him back down onto his cock, laughing affectionately when Peter mewls and scrabbles at his broad shoulders. “Now,” Stark purrs, cradling his devotee against his chest. “Let’s begin your worship, Peter.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell at me on [tumblr](https://peterparkers7evilexes.tumblr.com/).


End file.
